


A Timely Meeting

by Merfilly



Category: Doctor Who, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-15
Updated: 2006-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Multiverse Story in 2006, little adventure in which Nine and Bra'tac are in Ba'al's clutches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Timely Meeting

The second prisoner thrown in with the wandering Timelord was of a type he had never seen until coming to this remote corner of the galaxy. The fact that he superficially resembled their captors did little to trouble the traveler's mind; he was far too accustomed to looking under the superficial appearances.

"'Ello there," he said, merely to be sociable. He cast another look at the elder looking man, with his odd gold emblem across his forehead and the various pieces of armor. "Bit o' trouble with the locals, mmm?"

"It is of no concern to you," the man said gruffly, pride wrapped around him tightly, even as he scanned for a way to get out of their cell.

"Now is that anyway to talk to a fellow inmate?" The close-cropped man smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. They were bitter and forlorn, the eyes of a man who had peered into the cost of salvation and destruction entwined. The latecomer to the cell spared him a shrewd, measuring look then, noting the other man held a small device in his hand that made a whirring noise.

"What is that item?" the latecomer asked.

"This, my soon-to-be rescued chum, is a sonic screwdriver." Another flash of those teeth, before the energy field came down. "I'm the Doctor, by the way." He started moving out of the cell, only pausing to thrust his hand in the other's direction.

"Bra'tac." He cautiously duplicated the hand shaking ritual of the Tauri, but he did not think this man was anything like his allies of that race.

"Well, come on then; we mustn't be late," the Doctor cheerily chimed, dashing off in a direction that made little sense to Bra'tac.

"Wait! The ring control room is this way!" He stood resolutely in the prison cell's doorway, pointing. The other man paused, shrugged, and grinned one more time.

"Suit yourself, but I brought my own." He hurried off down a hall, and Bra'tac decided to put a small measure of trust his way. After all, he had Tauri mannerisms; their quick thinking and odd ways had served well in the past. He hurried after the taller man and caught up just in time to flatten against a wall with him, as a small squad of Jaffa were marching through the adjoining corridor.

"Ba'al's men," Bra'tac murmured.

"The ancient Mesopotamian god?" the Doctor asked, then glanced again at the symbol on Bra'tac's forehead. "Their glyphs are different from yours," he noted.

"I once served Apophis. They are no gods, but seen as such by the few of our kind still loyal to them, and the planets under their sway."

"Mmm," the Doctor murmured. "Nasty buggers, I'm sure. No plans to stay around and meet them, then." He patted at his coat pocket, looking relieved. Bra'tac noted something bulging there, and thought the outline looked suspiciously like a control crystal. He said nothing though; survival first, and then deal with the odd being if needed. Survival, right now, meant escaping Ba'al's clutches.

"Move, now," Bra'tac urged as the corridor cleared, an instant before the alarm sounded.

"Good nose for trouble," the Doctor quipped, before taking off at a run. The old Jaffa was able to keep up with some difficulty; he was nowhere near as young as he had once been. They both wound up skidding to a stop just outside the cargo hold, in which an odd blue box with a cylindrical light on top sat. Between them and it were two of Ba'al's Jaffa.

"Only two, even odds," Bra'tac said with a glint in his eyes, though his breathing was harsh from the short run.

"Hmm, yes, but they have loud mouths," the Doctor pointed out. "The armor? Technologically the same as this ship?" he questioned, fishing out the whirring device again, and adjusting it.

"Yes, but…" Bra'tac had to smile as the armor helmets suddenly malfunctioned, opening and flickering shut repeatedly, dazing the guards' senses as they tried to get them under control. The former First Prime rushed in, wresting a staff away long enough to knock both to the ground and out of consciousness. "Quickly!" As he waved the Doctor in, he kept up his guard, not sure what the blue box's purpose was. The Doctor quickly opened a door in one side and stepped in.

"Come on then!" he called to Bra'tac, who looked momentarily confused. The sounds of more Jaffa made him swiftly duck inside, feeling a momentary twinge of a spatial anomaly similar to the Gate travel. He was then in a room that was far larger than conceivable, inside the blue box.

"Impossible things are meant to be experienced," he murmured as the strange man set about operating some form of control panel.

"Well then, I suppose we must get you home, and me back on my way," the Doctor said, pulling the control crystal he had appropriated out of his pocket. "So I can put this out of the hands of misusers."

"It is but a control crystal," Bra'tac said, shaking his head. "For that you braved Ba'al?"

"This, my friend, only appears to be a control crystal of that ship. In fact, it is a piece of a device I scattered some few lifetimes ago." The Doctor then smiled. "Familiar with Earth?" he asked.

"Why?" Bra'tac asked warily.

"That's our next stop, so if you have a preference speak up now." The Doctor fiddled with another dial, then pumped a button several times. Bra'tac shook his head; perhaps a drink with Teal'c would be just the thing to forget this small misadventure.

"Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, North America." He somehow thought his friends there would like to meet this strange man with his indecipherable technology.

"Century? Decade even, so I don't deliver you wrong?" The thin, tall man smiled with a gleam in his eyes at the way Bra'tac looked disbelievingly at him.

"I believe they call it the century the 21st, early on, first decade or so," Bra'tac said, to humor him.

"Good enough…Cheyenne…" He paused, cocking his head to one side. It was as if he were listening to the ship itself. "Ooooh, that makes sense." He looked at Bra'tac again. "One small jaunt to the Stargate Command at the height of its regime!"

~fini~


End file.
